


The Fox and the Bear

by broadway_and_burbank



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Style, well Anna is there in a way at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 11:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16533317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadway_and_burbank/pseuds/broadway_and_burbank
Summary: Kristoff tells his daughter a bedtime story. Later that night, he dreams of a fairy tale all his own.For Kristanna week on tumblr





	The Fox and the Bear

Kristoff threw more wood into the fire, making sure it was blazing before crossing the room to his daughter’s bed.

The little girl was prone to the cold, just like her mother.

He sat on the side of the bed and tucked the thick blankets around the child, heart simultaneously swelling and aching as she smiled up at him.

“How was your trip, Papa?” she asked, wrapping her small hand around a few of his fingers. Her blue eyes squinted as her grin reveled a missing bottom front tooth.

It was her first missing tooth. Kristoff wasn’t there when she lost it. Just like how he wasn’t there for her first word or her first steps or when she learned to read. Just like how he wasn’t there most of the time.

“It was good, sweetheart. Tiring. _You_ should be tired, it’s late.”

“Nope!” The girl shook her head, blonde hair falling into her eyes. “The sky’s still awake, Papa. I can’t go to sleep yet!”

Kristoff gently brushed her hair back, hoping his sadness didn’t show in his eyes. She was so much like Anna.

“Lisbet,” he said, using his fake-stern voice that made the girl giggle. “The sky is _much_ older than you are. When you’re as old as the sky, you can stay up as late as you want, okay?”

“But that will take so long!” she whined, giving an exaggerating frown.

“Not as long as you think,” Kristoff said quietly. His little girl was already six, and he could barely remember any of the past years with her. It wouldn’t surprise him if he woke up tomorrow and she was fully grown. Time tended to blend together ever since-

“Papa?” Lisbet asked. “Will you tell me a story?”

Kristoff was tired, but he barely ever saw his daughter, and on the very few occasions she had the opportunity to ask anything of him, he couldn’t refuse.

“Of course. Do you want to hear about Flemmingrad? Or the adventures of Olaf and Sven? Or what about-”

“The fox and the bear,” the girl requested.

“Oh.” He looked away for a moment, forcing a smile on his face as he turned back to her. “Are you sure? You’ve heard that one a lot.”

“It’s my favorite! Please, Papa?”

“Okay.” Kristoff took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, there was a bear.”

“A _grumpy_ bear,” his daughter corrected.

“Right. A grumpy bear. He didn’t like the rest of the animals in the forest, except for his friend, the reindeer. For many years, the bear and the reindeer lived alone. The bear was sure he didn’t need anyone else, until one day-”

“The fox came along.” Lisbet always liked to be a part of the story.

“The beautiful, red fox came along. Her sister, the artic fox, was missing and she asked the bear for his help. At first, he said no.”

“Because he was stupid.”

“He was _really_ stupid.” Kristoff actually smiled as his daughter laughed. “But she convinced him to help, and the bear, the fox, and the reindeer began a very strange adventure.”

He told her that the fox was extremely nice, but the bear never actually met one before, so he didn’t know what to think. They had to fight off wolves, and the fox was very brave. The bear was very impressed, although he pretended not to care. It was weird – being around the fox made him less grumpy.

“Can you skip to the part with the hare? He’s so funny!”

“Eventually,” Kristoff began, ticking the girl. “They found a snowshoe hare, who was very silly. He had detachable ears, and he kept losing them.”

Lisbet laughed at the image and her father’s ticking fingers. She pushed his hand away as she giggled. “Papa, stop! I’m trying to _listen._ ”

“Sorry,” Kristoff said, but he wasn’t. Seeing her happy was one of the only things that could make him smile anymore.

As he continued the story, Lisbet listened intently. He told her about how the bear began to grow curious about the fox. She was caring and brave and smart and beautiful. She had white spots all over her fur, and the bear really liked them. She would always trip over her tail, never as graceful as he thought foxes would be, but he liked her that way. And when she laughed, the bear felt something weird in his chest. Something he’d never felt before.

“When the group of animals found the artic fox, the red fox went to talk to her. There was a fight, and the fox got hurt. The bear took her to see the hidden folk who lived in the woods, and they raced back to the opposite side of the forest because they thought only the adder could save her.”

“But they were wrong,” the girl said, looking frightened.

“They were very wrong. The bear had never been so scared in his life, but he didn’t think the fox wanted him anymore, so he left. He left her with the snake.”

“The bear really _was_ stupid. It’s easy to tell the fox didn’t want to leave him.”

Kristoff could only agree. “The bear was sad, but luckily he turned around, worried about the fox. It turned out, the adder was evil and didn’t want to help her at all. He’d also taken the artic fox to kill her. But before he could strike, the red fox jumped in front of her sister, getting bitten by the snake instead. The bear thought it was all over.”

“But it wasn’t!”

“And why not?”

“Because the fox was so brave and loving that she was okay; she didn’t die.”

“Right,” Kristoff said, giving his daughter a sad smile as he held her hand. “She didn’t die.”

“And after that, everyone was happy.”

“Especially the bear. The sisters were together and he had more friends and the fox wanted him to stay with them. The bear never thought he would fall in love, but he was so in love with the fox that he would do anything for her, even begin a new life in a new place.”

“But some of the other animals didn’t like that,” Lisbet said, wrinkling her nose in disapproval.

“The bear understood them, though. How could a bear and a fox be together? He didn’t think he was good enough for her. They were so different.”

“They were different, but perfect for each other.”

“They were, weren’t they?”

“Yes! So even though some animals were dumb and didn’t think it was right, the fox and the bear knew it was.”

“They did.”

“This is my favorite part!” she squealed, taking both hands and gripping the top of her blanket excitedly.

“Mine too.” Kristoff got uncharacteristically wistful, staring out the large window at the display of dancing lights. “So, even though a lot of animals in the forest didn’t understand, the fox and the bear got married. They were so in love, it was impossible for it to be wrong. It was the best day of the bear’s life, and he never would’ve believed he could’ve been so happy.”

“Until one day…” the girl prompted.

“Until one day, something even more wonderful happened, and the fox told the bear they were going to have a baby. The bear could count on his paws how many times he’d cried in his life. One was on his wedding day, and another was that day, when he learned he was…he was going to be a papa.” Kristoff paused, words catching in his throat. He could feel the tears burning in the back of his eyes and squeezed them shut, refusing to cry in front of his daughter.

“It’s okay,” the girl said quietly, and Kristoff opened his eyes when he felt her small hands grip one of his. “I know you’re tired, but I know the next part. They lived together for many months, and they were happier than any other animal in the entire forest.”

“The fox and the bear knew it to be true.” His voice was suddenly hoarse. “The bear would never forget those days. But when it was time for the baby to be born-” He stopped. He could rarely get through this part.

“Something went wrong.” Lisbet supplied. “The fox got sick. The arctic fox got every doctor owl in the forest to help, but they couldn’t.”

Kristoff pushed on. “It would’ve been so easy for the fox to give up. She could have left whenever she wanted to, but what did I tell you about the fox?”

“She never gave up.”

“She _never_ gave up. She knew that inside her was the most amazing creature ever created. If she gave up, the world would never get to meet this creature, so she held on and gave birth to a beautiful little roe deer. She held onto her baby and made sure it was safe before she knew it was time to leave.”

Kristoff stopped. He would usually tell her how the roe deer turned out to be as kind and loving as her mother, but he couldn’t speak.

He couldn’t tell her how the fox wasn’t the only one who died that day. He couldn’t tell her how the bear settled into his depression, living inside it like a cave. He couldn’t tell her how the past six years for the bear had been in constant hibernation and he never wanted to wake up.

And he certainly couldn’t tell her how much it hurt to look into his little roe deer’s shining, blue eyes.

“And then the roe deer grew up to be just as smart and beautiful as the fox, right?”

Kristoff nodded, not trusting his voice and holding back the tears swimming at the edge of his vision. He tucked her back in, ready to leave for the night, but she spoke up again.

“But Papa, I have a new ending.”

“You…what?” He felt a little disoriented and just wanted to sleep.

“I thought of a better ending while you were away. I love the story Papa, but I hate the ending.”

“I do, too.” It was the truest thing he’d ever said.

“Can I tell it?”

Kristoff just nodded again. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“The bear missed the fox a lot, but he got to watch the roe deer grow up. His friends the artic fox, the reindeer, and the snowshoe hare all did too. After a very long time, the roe deer got older – as old as the sky, even!” Lisbet added quickly and Kristoff found a smile tracing his lips.

“She grew her antlers-”

Unlike reindeer, female roe deer didn’t have antlers, but Kristoff certainly wasn’t going to tell her that.

“-and married a lynx.”

“A lynx?” he asked amused, warm creases appearing by the corners of his eyes.

“Yes! If a fox and a bear can fall in love, why not a deer and a lynx?”

“Why not?”

“And she had a bunch of squirrels!”

“Squirrels?” Kristoff almost laughed. She was so ridiculous, so imaginative, so very Anna.

He watched as his daughter got lost in her own tale.

“The row deer, the lynx, and their squirrels were very happy. The bear was happiest of all, because he knew his little deer would be safe forever. And because she was old and happy and he was old and happy, it was finally okay for him to leave, too. So one day, after saying goodbye for now, the bear left, walking into the forest alone. But he wasn’t alone for long, because he found the fox again. She was waiting for him, and they walked through the snow together again. Only this time it was for forever. The end.”

Lisbet looked up, proud of her story. Kristoff pressed his fingers to his eyes, swallowing the feelings forcing their way out of his throat.

“What do you think?”

He looked back at her and forced a smile on his face. “I like that ending a lot better.” He squeezed her hand for comfort and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Goodnight, _rådyr._ ”

“Goodnight, Papa. I love you.”

“I love you too. Get some sleep.” Kristoff stood up and left her bed, checking the fire once more before heading to the door.

“Papa?” Lisbet said before he left the room.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I told Aunt Elsa the story, and she told me that one day all the animals would be together again. Is that true?”

“Your Aunt Elsa is a smart woman, so it must be.”

Lisbet thought for a moment. “Will you stay tonight?”

“Papa has to go, but I’ll see you in the morning.”

Kristoff slipped out the door, finally letting the tears fall as he walked down the hallway.

After Anna’s death, the castle felt so cold, so haunted, he didn’t dare spend a night inside. He went up to his cabin in the mountains every night, coming down in the morning or staying up there if he had an ice harvesting trip.

He threw himself into his work or solitude; he’d just gotten back from a two month harvest and he was supposed to leave again in less than a week. Sometimes he even stayed up there alone simply because he couldn’t face anything else.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and set his mind on the stables.

On the second floor of the castle however, he ran into Elsa.

“Oh, hi, Elsa.” He hoped it didn’t look like was just crying. With the way she was staring at him, he suspected it did.

“Hello, Kristoff.”

“What are you doing up so late?” It wasn’t any of his business, but he wasn’t used to seeing anyone this time of night.

“I’m going to say goodnight to my niece.”

God bless Elsa. Unlike Kristoff, when Anna died, she spent all her time doting on the little girl. She was always by her side when she wasn’t working, and sometimes even if she was. She wanted the girl to know she would always be there; she wouldn’t grow up alone like Anna.

“Are you heading out?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“And I’ll see you in the morning, I trust.” She was as cool and detached as she’d been to him for the past few years. He couldn’t blame her – he was barely around. She also always checked in to see when he was coming back. He understood her there as well. Sometimes he took extra-long harvesting trips without letting anyone know. Sometimes he just left when he needed time alone.

Sometimes he would sit up in the mountains, in the snow, and give in, waiting for the inevitable. It was only when a breeze would pass, stinging his cheeks and carrying what sounded like a joik on the wind, that he would rouse himself and force himself to go on.

“Yes. Goodnight, Elsa.” He walked past her as he headed toward the stairs.

“Just so you know,” Elsa began from behind him, “last week, _your child_ asked me if you were coming back this time. I want you to think about that.”

He paused, then left her at the top of the stairs.

Kristoff finally made it to the stables, giving Sven a pat on the head before he harnessed one of the palace horses.

Sven was getting old, greying around the muzzle, and could no longer carry Kristoff on his journeys to the mountains.

When the horse was ready, he left.

He hurried out of the palace, then through the kingdom, horse galloping through the freshly fallen snow. He didn’t stop until he reached the familiar, tiny cabin.

Kristoff gave the horse food and water, putting it in the small barn for the night. He went into the cabin and collapsed on the hard, single bed.

The castle beds were too big for him.

It would’ve been smart to eat and drink himself, but Kristoff barely felt the need to anymore. He barely felt anything.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately in the cold, dark cabin.

As he slept, he dreamed of a bear.

The bear trudged through the snow, leaving his large prints behind him as he walked between thin birch trees.

The winter world was never ending, scenes seemed to repeat themselves as the bear traveled, but he didn’t care. He simply walked, having no idea where he was going.

After what felt like an eternity, the bear stopped.

There, in front of him, was a beautiful red fox.

She looked at him with sparkling blue eyes and the bear’s breath disappeared in his chest.

He knew those eyes.

The fox turned around then ran, heading deeper into the forest.

“Wait!” the bear called, speaking for the first time. He ran after her, digging up the snow with his paws.

He lost her, frantically turning his head every which way. “Where are you?” he called in a panic, _needing_ to find her.

“I’m right here!”

The bear turned around and there the fox was, sitting on a rock protruding out of the snow.

He couldn’t stop crying as he ran to her, face and snout wet with tears. He nuzzled against the fox and she nestled back, rubbing her soft fur against the blond grizzly bear.

“I thought I would never see you again,” he sobbed, reveling in the feeling of actually touching her.

“I’ve always been here,” she said as she pulled away, gently putting her paws on his chest as she licked his tears away. “You just didn’t know it.”

“But-”

“Now come on! I want to show you something!” The fox jumped off the rock, yelping as one of her back paws slipped on the slick surface and she fell.

Then the bear laughed. He laughed from deep in his chest and he couldn’t remember that last time he actually laughed that hard.

The fox smacked his arm with her tail, but smiled. “Still getting used to these things I guess.” She stood up and shook the snow off her body, then gestured her head to point the way. “The way out is over here.”

“I’ll stay in here forever as long as it’s with you.”

She just smiled up at him sadly.

The bear simply looked down to his front paws as the fox turned around, leading him in the right direction. He quickly followed, refusing to let her out of his sight.

Even though he’d been walking endlessly for what felt like hours, it was only a minute until the fox led the bear out of the woods.

The sky was clear and the sun was bright as they traveled across the snowy landscape.

They stopped on top of a small hill and the bear gasped.

“It’s-”

“The kingdom,” the fox said.

The kingdom glittered down below, the castle perched on top of the water in a grand display.

The fox laid down in the snow and the bear curled up behind her.

“This is all I ever wanted,” the bear said as the fox snuggled into his side. “There’s nothing down there for me; I belong with you.”

“That’s not true. The kingdom isn’t why I love this view so much. Look down.”

The bear leaned over the side of the hill and gazed down at the scene below.

A reindeer jumped around in the snow like a dog, while a snowshoe hair laughed as it rode on its back, holding on tightly to his ears.

An artic fox watched with a smile, turning her head to acknowledge a small roe deer who was prancing about, singing and laughing and encouraging all her friends to join. Soon, even the white fox joined in, losing any calm demeanor as she hopped around the snow with her.

The scene was bight and happy and heartfelt and the bear hadn’t seen anything like that in years.

“That’s your family,” the fox said, turning to look at him. “That’s our daughter. You belong wherever they are. Wherever she is.”

“I can’t-” the bear began, choking on his words.

“You must. I know you miss me, but she’s still there.”

“It’s too hard! She always askes about you, or laughs like you, and her eyes – her eyes are just like yours. How am I supposed to care for her when anytime I’m around her my heart breaks a little more every time?”

“Because you’re her father.”

The bear paused, feeling tears burning in his eyes once more.

“I can’t be there for her, but you can. You _have to._ You can’t give up, just like I didn’t.”

“I’m…” He was going to say he wasn’t giving up, but he couldn’t lie to her.

“I see you when you work. You don’t check the strength of the ice anymore. You’re careless with your tools. You hope something happens to you because then it wouldn’t be your fault. But your fault or not, how do you think she’d feel if you were gone too? We both lived without parents; don’t do that to her.”

Tears began to fall again and the fox nuzzled into the bear more, comforting his aching heart.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just don’t know how to go on without you,” he cried.

“I know, but moving on doesn’t mean forgetting. I promise you, one day you’ll think of me and be able to smile. But until then, just be there for her; tell her about me. Watch her grow and guide her when I can’t. Watch over my sister too; you don’t know how much she’s struggling. She’s just better at hiding it.”

“I can’t do this without you.”

“Sure you can! I know you can. Haven’t you always believed in me?”

“With all my heart.”

“Then believe in me now when I say that you can do this.” The fox suddenly stood, heading back to the trees.

“Where are you going?” The bear stood up as well, following her.

“Back to the forest. It’s where I have to be for right now.”

“No, you have to stay.”

The fox shook her head fervently. “I can’t. And you have to go down there.”

“I’m _not_ letting you go again.”

“You’re not. You never did.” She walked back to him as he lowered his head in grief. She put the top of her head against his. “I’m always with you, even if you can’t see me, you’ll feel me here.”

The bear’s heart began to warm in his chest.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready, but don’t let that be for a long, long time. Remember me, but remember your purpose too. It’s okay to miss me, but please don’t miss another moment with her. Take care of our Lisbet. I love you, Kristoff.”

“I will always love you, Anna.”

The bear felt a cold breeze against his head, and when he looked up, the fox was gone.

Kristoff’s eyes snapped open and he bolted up in bed, heart pounding and strangely warm in his chest, even though the cabin was freezing cold.

He had to get back.

He didn’t know what time it was when he hitched the horse back up and took off down the mountain, but he didn’t care. His daughter was down there and he’d already missed six years of her life. He wouldn’t miss any more.

He raced down to the kingdom, stopping at the stables to drop the horse off, even waking the stable boy to put it back in its stall. He didn’t have another second to waste.

But as he ran up the steps, he paused.

The castle was full of so many memories, horrible, ghostly memories. But also bright ones. Joyful ones. Memories that Kristoff felt blessed to even witness.

And inside was his future as well.

He ran inside, startling the guards, and kept his pace up, sprinting up stairs and down hallways, desperate to get to his daughter.

Kristoff didn’t care how much noise he was making – it was probably a lot – as he got to the part of the castle where the family slept.

He swung open her door and didn’t bother to shut it as he took to the fire, starting it up again. It was out, and it wouldn’t do for her room to be cold ever again.

He went over to her bed and picked her up, holding her close as she slowly woke up.

“Papa…?” she asked confused.

He sat them over by the fire and cradled her to his chest, not hiding the tears this time. “Lisbet, my _rådyr,_ I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Papa, what’s wrong?” she asked, wiping his tears away lightly with her fingers.

“I haven’t been a very good Papa. But I’m going to do better, I promise.”

“It’s okay. I love you.”

“No, it’s not okay. I love you _so much_ and I haven’t been there for you. Papa’s not going anywhere anymore.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay tonight?” she asked, a wide smile spreading on her face.

“It means I’m going to stay forever; I will always be here for you. _Always._ ”

He hugged her and she hugged him, warm and safe by the roaring fire.

“Do you want to hear a story?” he asked.

“I do.” Elsa’s voice came from the doorway.

Kristoff turned to look at her, never loosening his grip on the girl, and he couldn’t believe what he saw.

She was smiling at him. She hadn’t done that in over six years.

“I do too, Papa!” Lisbet agreed. “Is it more about the bear and the fox?”

“No,” Kristoff said as Elsa came into the room, slowly closing the door behind her as she joined them.

“It’s about me and your mother, Anna.”

**Author's Note:**

> A little strange, I know, but I've always loved that weirdness that comes with old fairy tales.
> 
> Also I'm sorry this is kind of sad; everything else this week will be fluff I promise


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